Like a Rat in a Maze
by EpicInTheLibrary
Summary: And when Kendall blinks once, his vision is erased, and all he sees is a mocking, jagged smile, and three broken toys.
1. Chapter 1

_My original plan was to FINISH this on Halloween. Obviously that did not work out. _

_Three things I have to address in this:_

_1. This is dedicated to One Man Writing Games because she is amazing and I posted it tonight for her. _

_2. "The Yellow Wallpaper" is a story written by I can't remember her name but she's a genius and I really really really shouldn't have stolen the concept for this, but just please understand that that was takend from her amazing story and if you haven't read it, do so NOW. I highly reccomend it. It won't really appear in alter chatpers either, so._

_3. The painting is based off of a work hanging in my art classroom. I will try to get a picture up somewhere to show you all._

_That being said, please enjoy I will love you all forever if you review I swear._

_Ps this was totally giving me the creeps when I was writing it so. Keep that in mind. Also the title is BS so please try to ignore that department of fail. I was put on the spot._

* * *

"What's Griffin's problem, anyway?"

"Calm down, James, he doesn't have- well, maybe he does, but that's not the p-"

"The _point_ is that Griffin _hates us._"

"He doesn't _hate _us, James, he just-"

"Has severe problems with us as a band under his company."

"Shut up, Logan."

"It's true."

"_Carl_- Is everyone here just to argue with me?"

"No. We're here because Griffin hates us."

Kendall heaves a defeated sigh and throws his arms up in exasperation. His ability to keep the band motivated and optimistic is failing, as it seems. He kind of sort of maybe a little agrees with James in the assumption that Griffin does, indeed, hate them, but that's in the back of his mind. In the front of his mind, an area Logan has recently found interest in torturing into a more logically-thinking sect, there is insightful speculation as to Griffin's ulterior motive, involving a taking enjoyment in tormenting Gustavo to no end until the poor man explodes in the insanity of it all, only succeeding in catalyzing even more suffering for himself. In short: Griffin loves to get on Gustavo's nerves. Messing with Big Time Rush is his way of doing so. Gustavo is frustrated to utter madness. The band, unfortunately, has to deal with the consequence of both.

What is it this time? The boys are required to give Griffin a tri-monthly performance for the mere purpose of reminding him why he continues to sponsor them. Today is one of those days, but again, in an effort to frustrate everyone, he is requiring them to show up at his corporate building rather than he at Gustavo's Rocque Records as per usual. It would be no problem, of course, if it weren't an hour and a half away from Rocque Records and the Palm Woods. Currently the guys are squashed together in the back of a limousine with Kelly as supervision, Gustavo stating clearly with a highly raised metaphorical chin that he was "too superior and amazing to be caught riding with a bunch of raunchy, slobbering _dogs._" Logan had taken high offense to this claim, but Gustavo hadn't had ears to hear it. A slamming car door was the only answer he'd received. Now three boys and an unlucky record producer's assistant are sentenced to hearing James' unending complaints of unnecessary measures taken by "freak-job rapists" who "don't give a damn about his hard-working money-making singing dancing puppet-monkeys."

"Very eloquently put," Logan comments.

"I thought we were _dog_-monkeys," Carlos says with confusion.

"Monkey-dogs," Logan corrects, and Kendall shakes his head, casting his eyes to the low ceiling of the car as if asking God in exasperation, why, _why_ would he be so cruel in sticking him with _these_ ingrates, especially for the past ten years of his life?

"Oh, it _doesn't matter,_" he stresses, bringing his gaze back down to hold the attention of the other three. "Complaining isn't going to solve anything, so let's all try to look at the bright side for once."

"Yeah," Carlos pipes up after the short awkward silence of James' and Logan's obvious disagreement. "The world still has kittens."

Pause.

"And people who kill them."

Carlos is all over James in a second, landing the most efficient punches he can manage any place he can reach and demanding furiously that he _take it back_ as James squalls and screeches underneath him for him to _get off,_ that he's _ruining his hair_. Kendall rolls his eyes again while Kelly attempts to go about breaking them apart; he has no idea why James is being so pessimistic today- nothing horrible happened this morning, everything was going just fine. The only negative thing in the day is the ridiculously long commute to Griffin's building in the land of far, far away, but James has never complained about that before. They've done it three times now, in their lone year of being together as a boy band. Perhaps it's just anxiety; lately Griffin has been getting more strict about his requirements for Gustavo's latest project, and James sort of does have a point with his claim of Griffin's always trying to find new ways to tear them apart. And maybe his "plans" are working, if they're getting to James this much. Kendall sighs; they're only making it easier for him to win.

Now if only he could find the correct words to relay this to James efficiently.

Finally Kelly manages to separate the two, and she doesn't even have to get out the blow horn- something Kendall is exceedingly grateful for. His poor ears already take daily abuse from Gustavo's lack of self-control, they don't need anything from Kelly, too.

The rest of the trip is filled with epic tales of James freaking out over his hair and how strand number three thousand six hundred eighty-two isn't in the exact position the he spent three hours this morning trying to fix it into, Logan correcting everything anyone says that has even the most remote speck of invalidity, and Carlos animatedly telling Kelly of his enthralling adventure this morning involving Lightning and his BB gun- plus a few corn dogs. Kelly tries to keep up with his rapid, scrambled pace of talking while understanding every word- though even half of his words would be a feat. Kendall wishes his friends would focus so they can nail this; the better they do, the faster they can go home. Jo has the day off today and it's the phenomenal opportunity he's been waiting for for _months._ If they can just perform so perfectly that Griffin _can't_ criticize them- the man is insane, though, so really, he shouldn't be getting his hopes up in this department- then he'll be able to get straight home for Jo, minus the headache he just knows will develop if Griffin and Gustavo start grinding on each other's nerves. He can feel it even now, just thinking about it. Maybe he should have taken his mom up on her offer of Aspirin before they'd left. Too late now. Besides, he thinks dismissively, working with Gustavo by her side all day, Kelly _must_ have some on hand. His thoughts of impending headache are brushed aside presently.

This is a _long_ drive, he observes. He figures he can just pass the time texting Jo. He whips out his phone and does exactly that. They share many genuine smiley faces and "No, I love _you_ more!"s, James at one point leaning over to see what he's doing only to scoff immediately in disgust and return to his heated debate with Logan about whether snow cones or donuts are better, he favoring snow cones while Logan favors donuts. Carlos favors both, so he is shunned from the conversation.

When they finally arrive to their destination, Kendall decides that he has never been more relieved to get out of a _limo._ He sends Jo a quick goodbye, to which she responds with a "good luck! ;)", and after stepping out of the vehicle, he stretches his cramped legs, eyeing the ominously tall building before him- it looks taller than it should be, but that could just be Kendall's general impression of most of the buildings here in California; back in Minnesota, most people didn't even know the definition of a "skyscraper." To them it was a mere fabrication pulled straight from those storybooks mothers always read to entertain their children. So no, before coming to California, Kendall had never actually _seen_ a real skyscraper.

Now, looking up at it from where he is, he feels small, insignificant. Like with something like that towering over him, he can simply be disposed of with a snap of the fingers. It's unsettling, but of course, he's being stupid. It's just a building. Plus he's supposed to be leader. What would everyone say if they knew he was scared of a _skyscraper?_

Not that he is. Just the backdrop of dank, old buildings and that _one_ cloud, the only cloud out today, hovering right over its top. Even perched on the top of the building, pinned to the rough blue of the sky behind it, because they're not called skyscrapers for nothing, are they?

"Alright, stop staring, it's just a building," Gustavo cuts in rudely, apparently able to read Kendall's thoughts now. Kendall shakes himself and follows the producer through the tall glass double doors, the rest of the group trailing behind while Kelly catches up to Gustavo to do her job of keeping him in line.

"What floor is it again?" Kendall speaks out as they head for the elevator. Gustavo throws a nasty glare over his shoulder.

"You're a _dog._ You don't _need_ to know what floor it is. Just sing and dance and _don't mess up._" He jams his thick finger into the up button and waits maybe two seconds before sighing in annoyance at its failure to arrive at the speed of light. Kendall rolls his eyes at his boss' self-absorbed demeanor- he's been acting worse today. Maybe everyone's riled up about the performance. Kendall never really thought of it as a big deal, since they've been doing things like this since day one, but after looking at James' and Gustavo's actions today, maybe he should be taking this more seriously. Then again, James has been dreaming about fame his whole life, Griffin being a huge roadblock in that range, and Gustavo has a job on the line. Well- now that he thinks about it, either way he needs to be more focused, if not for Gustavo, whom he still hates for various reasons, then most definitely for James. It would be selfish of him not to do so.

And he was passing the time thinking all about himself and Jo. Shame on him.

Once the elevator arrives, they all pile in- Gustavo and Kelly entering first, of course. Kendall makes sure he gets in before any of his friends. Carlos scowls at him, and he sticks his tongue out in return. This initiates a funny face war- which Kendall _owns- _until Kelly makes them stop. Kelly kills all the fun.

They literally spend, like, _five whole minutes_ in the elevator, but that might just be because the whole time Kendall is tapping his foot impatiently while uncomfortably noticing the way Gustavo seems to be steadily inching closer to him in the confined space. The elevator's _ding_ signifying their arrival on the... twenty-third floor is like a rush of cool, refreshing air flooding over him, and he can_not_ get out of the motorized death box quickly enough.

"Sooo... Where are we going again?" Kendall speaks up, mostly just to annoy Gustavo because he knows it will work.

"Nowhere!" comes the anticipated response. "Just shut it and wait 'til we get there, okay?"

Kendall wears a self-satisfied smirk all the way to a room labeled "23L." There he waits patiently like a gentleman for his boss and his assistant to enter first, before heading in after and holding the door open politely for his friends. They all file in with suspicious looks, Logan being last and hissing, "Don't be frivolous," as he passes. Kendall scoffs; he doesn't need lectures on his levity- he can berate himself for that. Always usually mostly works.

His levity disappears when he follows Logan into the room and lets the door fall shut behind him.

Okay, number one- it's _creepy._ Any normal recording studio might have a few instruments lying around, some chairs at the controls for the booth, pictures of mountain scenery or little woodland cottages hanging on the walls, right? Well, Griffin's is another story- a _whole_ other story; for one, the wallpaper- yes, wallpaper- is ancient and peeling away. The journey to this room was through nice, clean, modern hallways and rooms, shiny and well-kept. This room is just- the epitome of the exact _opposite._ The wallpaper is a sickly shade of yellow, stained and cracked along the edges, painted with dancing, indiscernible designs that seem to be moving if Kendall looks close enough. When he looks up, the ceiling is low and has only three out of six working lights, and one has just started to flicker. There are countless water stains dampening its appearance, and there are even a few loose tiles hanging dangerously askew from their places.

There are pictures on the walls, but Griffin's choice in artistry isn't exactly common; things that make Kendall think of Edvard Munch's _The Scream_ and scenes from various horror flicks he's seen are pinned up to the sallow walls of the recording room. It doesn't even look like a recording room- more like something pulled out of an old, overdone movie set, but more realistic and set to Griffin's personality as it comes off to others. Because to Kendall, this _definitely_ feels like the kind of place Griffin would be.

There is one painting in particular that catches Kendall's eye, and that is one of a young child, playing in his room with several toys. He looks about six to Kendall; he's blond with a round, boyish face, but it's tilted down so Kendall can't really make out his facial expression. It's not something that particularly matters, though, because the attention of the painting is not meant to be focused on the little boy's expression.

He's holding three toys; one in his right, two in his left. The one in his right appears to be some sort of spinning top, but a different kind- Kendall thinks it's called a dreidel, but it doesn't have those foreign markings on its sides- or at least, he can't see them from this far. The second toy is a wind-up monkey holding cymbals, its grinning face turned horribly macabre in the connotative light of the painting; it sends a shudder up Kendall's spine. The third toy is a wooden airplane model, but it's broken, he notices; the propeller is snapped and one of the wings is crooked. The boy's expression now seems to Kendall more like something of disappointment or sorrow, or even guilt, as if these toys are not appreciated or weren't taken care of enough to stay in better condition.

The real focus of the painting, however, is none of these things, and Kendall has no idea why he noticed them first; there is a great, towering shadow looming up behind the boy, fingers spindly and clawed and glinting in the sharp light of the moon filtering innocently in through the window behind the two. The shadow has piercing eyes like omniscient bloodied rubies, seeming to stare everywhere all at once but mostly at the unsuspecting boy beneath its malice. Again the boy's expression changes in Kendall's eyes, and now he looks scared, or unsettled, as if he somehow _knows_ there's something behind him, but he's too afraid to turn around lest he see just what lies in wait. Kendall shivers as he imagines the story's next turn in the resumption of the silence; the boy slowly, slowly turns, eyes dragging across the dark, indiscernible features of his background, until with a silent lightning scream he gets a flash of razor silver and a glimpse of a wicked, twisted, jagged-tooth-filled grin before nothingness.

Suddenly the room feels about thirty degrees colder than before to Kendall, and he knows that all he wants is to get out of this room as fast as he can. But one look at his friends tells him he can't let this show; James looks unsettled, Logan looks shaken behind analytical eyes, and Carlos just looks freaked out and exactly how Kendall feels. Taking a deep breath and steeling himself to ignore his surroundings as best he can, he matches gazes with Gustavo, who looks blatantly confused, and says, "So this is what Griffin thinks of us?"

"_No,_" Gustavo answers haughtily, glaring back. "It's what _I _think of you."

"So why are we in this dump?"

"I wouldn't call it a dump," comes a sudden voice from behind, and Kendall whirls around to see Griffin himself standing just in front of the door. Something seems off about him, besides the heart-stopping shock of being surprised like that, and it takes Kendall a second to realize what; where the man is usually accompanied by two of his under-workers, now there is no one standing behind him. He's on his own, and though that should lessen the discomfort of the situation, Kendall finds that it actually intensifies the feeling. He also finds that he wants to be back in that limo more than anything. "More of a unique flare."

"Wh- How th-" Logan makes frantic gestures as he squeaks incoherence, eyes switching back and forth between Griffin and the door. Griffin just stares at him with an almost-grin, eyes alight with some sort of weird dance, before he turns to Gustavo and lets his wide lips stretch into a full smile.

"So I see you brought me your boys."

"They're _dogs_ and nothing more," Gustavo firmly refuses, and Kendall rolls his eyes. Is he ever going to give that up?

"Of course they are. But I'm afraid I have some bad news." And Kendall sees James tense out the corner of his eye. This is what he meant, this is always what it is; Griffin has some sort of problem, and okay, maybe he really does hate them. Or he just wants them gone. Maybe he supports them, just he doesn't want to pay for that support. He would rather see them achieve that longed for stardom under a different company, watch from afar, so that if something goes wrong, it's not his problem. And really, maybe Kendall doesn't blame him. Maybe Big Time Rush is made up of four irresponsible hooligans that could easily destroy a corporate conspiracy plot. The uncomfortable pool in his stomach twinges at the thought. But he's not scared. Never.

Gustavo is obviously both dismayed and frustrated. His fingers clench into fists and his gaze turns harsh. "What do you mean." It's ground out and sounds more like a demand than a question. Griffin's eyes gleam almost maliciously, and okay, maybe Kendall is just a little scared. Griffin's taking delight in the torture of Gustavo sets off an alarm in Kendall's brain that says, "This man is deranged, get away from him now." He wishes he could.

"Well, lately your little band of 'dogs' hasn't been so successful. Ratings have gone down recently, and you're not making the company much money, Gustavo."

"Wh- That's because it's been almost six months since our last tour!" Gustavo bursts out, a little panicked, because when Griffin starts talking bad ratings, you know you're already on the losing side unless you do something fast. Griffin's gaze is unwavering.

"Yes. But no one _wants_ Big Time Rush. The screams, Gustavo. I'm not hearing the screams."

"The screams?"

"The demand for more. You have fans, but not fanatics. No one is breaking down your door to get to Big Time Rush. No one is asking for Big Time Rush to perform. As I've always said, Gustavo, the boy band is dead."

"But Griffin," Kendall breaks in, unable to take much more, repressing a shudder when Griffin's gaze turns on him. "We haven't had enough time to become worldwide yet; we've only been here for almost a year. It's not gonna happen right away."

"Yes," Griffin agrees, "but what _is_ going to happen right away is a decrease in money the company is gathering, which means a decrease in funding for each division, which means an upset Griffin, and I do not like to be upset." He turns back to Gustavo. "I'm sorry, but I'm going to have to cut this project off right here. And since you were so unappreciative of my generous gifts of departure to you last time, this time you get nothing."

James speaks up. "Griffin, last time you did this, we ended up being really successful. What makes this time so different that we can't raise our ratings again?"

"Because that was your debut concert, and yes, many people liked it. But obviously it wasn't enough."

"We need more time!" Carlos bursts out, beginning to get extremely upset. Kendall looks at him in worry; they're all taking this differently. Kendall himself is both angry and frustrated; won't the record company ever learn? Won't Griffin ever learn? Every time he tries to throw them off, they just come right back around and prove him wrong again and again. Honestly he's not so worried about this, because like always, they'll find a way out of this. James, however, doesn't look as at ease. His jaw is clenched tight, teeth grinding together, and he has a look of such desperate hatred that Kendall almost wants to reach out and put his hand on his arm, if only to calm him down. Carlos is just about freaking out, his eyes wide and betrayed, disbelieving, like he's sharing the other three's fantasies of waking up from this, reality transforming into a dream and springing away in a cloud of dust just like that. Logan seems to be panicking, and Kendall can imagine him quickly analyzing every aspect of the situation in trying to come up with the best possible solution. He doesn't seem to be looking in the past like Kendall did. So... maybe Kendall's wrong?

Griffin's apathetic eyes land on Carlos, and he shakes his head. "No. There are pros and cons to this, and guess which outweighs the other?"

"But it's not fair!"

"Are you trying to tell me that you're not leaving without consolation?"

"We're trying to tell you that we're not leaving at all!" James bursts in, crossing his arms and firmly planting his feet on the floor.

"But you didn't even say thank you the last time," he muses, and Kendall sees his eyes glinting with... amusement? He's actually enjoying this. He knows he's won, and now he's just playing with them. Kendall's teeth clench together the same as James; he does _not_ want to be toyed with like a rat in a maze.

"Griffin, we're not going home, and we're not giving up," he states firmly, glaring at the man with defiance. Griffin's eyes find his, and suddenly he wishes he hadn't said anything, because it's just- stifling. Like he almost can't even control what he wants to say anymore, because all he wants to say is anything that will get him away from those sadistic, malicious eyes. He feels trapped, he feels pinned, he feels cornered. He wants to be free, because while his unwillingness to back down still burns strong withing him (at least he thinks it does), keeping his gaze locked unyieldingly on that burning gaze is draining, for some reason. But he's not scared. He just hates staring contests.

"Fine," Griffin cries, breaking the tension. "You give me no choice, with your pushy demands; I'll give you all something to remember me by."

"But- we don't _want-_"

"Oh, nonsense, you won't forget anything after this."

"_Griffin-_"

"No, I insist!"

"We're not-"

"After you!"

"Just_ listen_-"

"Turn around and look at that recording booth there, will you?"

"_What?_" But Kendall finds himself spinning on the spot, almost as if against his own will, to look at that creepy booth again, the cloudy glass veiling the room behind it. Furious, Kendall turns back to ask just what he thinks he's doing here, and freezes as a deathly chill comes over him; Griffin is gone.

"What the- Where the hell is he?" James demands, voice high and indignant. "I'll _kill_ him, I swear I will!"

"Oh, no need for that," and in that moment everyone in the room loses the ability to breathe properly. Kendall whirls and sees Griffin standing again behind Gustavo and Kelly, who look- strange to him. Like, they're not _moving._ For some reason this seems like a terribly _bad_ thing. Almost like time left them behind. Griffin sets a hand on each of their shoulders. "One more thing; these two are coming with me. You're on your own now."

The three melt into the background, blurring and smudging like a frantic artist's work, and when Kendall blinks again they're gone. The old yellow wallpaper is dancing, mocking him, and the overhanging shadow in the painting is grinning morbidly at him. And he feels this insane urge to run away, and never return. He's fairly convinced that the only thing stopping him is the presence of his friends, and no matter what, he has to stay strong for them. Still, he can't stop his voice from pitching high and shaking with the strain.

"Okay," he shivers. "That was insanely creepy."

"What are we gonna do?" James cries, still overly distressed about their loss to Griffin- Kendall almost shudders at the mere though of the man; all he can see is the wide grin of ridicule pasted tightly over his lips, like he's _hiding _something. But that's ridiculous. Griffin is just Griffin, and nothing else. He is a power-hungry mess of a man, and that's okay with Kendall as long as it doesn't affect them negatively. Which it just did.

"James, calm down, can't you see?" He tries to ignore the twirling figurines on the walls and focuses solely on James' face. "This- it's another test. Griffin is just _testing_ us again. He always does this. He wants to see if we're worth his time and money. And-" They're laughing, painted lips curling up in superiority, eyes slitting in a lash knit as their cheeks rise with scorn. "And he- _we're _gonna show him that we're _more _than-" And he can't stop _staring. _Since when is he staring? He thought he was looking at James' face. In fact, he was sure of it. Now he can't find James anywhere. The world is sallow high cheekbones and deriding eyes, laughing, mocking, and that horrid jagged grin. Wait, that painting isn't there- Kendall _knows _it's supposed to be behind him. What, is he- turned around? Is that why he can't find James? They're twirling and laughing, whispering to each other, whispering to _him,_ and he wants to hear what they're saying- he has to get _closer_- and he's just about to do so when-

"Kendall! Kendall, are you okay?"

"Worth his time," Kendall finishes, staring bewilderedly at James' face, which is suddenly right before him again. He glances behind James at the wall; the figurines are still, but they're grinning. Kendall murmurs to himself, shaking his head.

"Kendall, you're scaring me," James states matter-of-factly, narrowing his eyes. "Is there something wrong?"

"No, everything's wrong- I mean fine," Kendall brushes off. But he's still shaken. The painting... he doesn't want to turn around to see if it's behind him again. "James, is there a painting behind me?"

"A painting?"

"Yeah, just- Is there?"

"No." James' eyebrows furrow. "Kendall, seriously-"

Kendall turns to look, and James lied.

"James, you asshole, yes there is." It's right there. Grinning at him, _smirking._ Its teeth are long and jagged and seem to want to gnash out at him. James shakes his head, looking even more confused.

"No, Kendall, what are you talking about?" There may be a note of thawed fear in his voice. "There's nothing there."

"Yes there is," Kendall refuses stubbornly, his spine conducting chills and raising the hairs on the back of his neck. "I'm looking right at it."

"There's nothing there."

"James-"

"There's nothing there."

"Yes there is!"

"Kendall, we should get out of here."

"No, you know what, we're staying right here until-" And they're dancing again, right in front of his eyes. They're all over, right in his face, at his feet, but they're still on the walls. And that jagged grin stares at him from everywhere. The mouths all whisper soundlessly and giggle, but there is no sound in Kendall's ears. Just... "What are they laughing at?"

"What?"

"Th- The dancers. What do they want?" He's getting frustrated. He just wants to know _why_ they're laughing at him. "What do they want?"

"Dancers?" James is definitely scared. "Kendall, there's something wrong with you. You're seeing things. We have to get out of here, _now._"

"No," Kendall refuses, a spark of desperation hitting him. "No, no no, we have to stay, you can't-"

"C'mon, Kendall, we can't- We have to _go,_" he presses, and Kendall definitely hears fear in his voice now, but he doesn't care. He can't leave, he has to hear what the soundless voices are whispering, why they're _laughing._ They stare out at him through hooded eyes, beckoning, drawing him in, and he starts to take a step f- suddenly a hand shoots out and grabs his arm, and he's brought crashing back.

"No!" he shrieks, wrenching away. "James, _no_, we have to-" And he stops, staring with horror-wide eyes. "J-James."

"What?"

"Th-they're all over. They're fucking all over the place, they're crawling onto you, _James, _they're gonna get you!" He panics and flails out at James, striking him hard in the face where a thin-lipped mouth smirks up at him.

"_Kendall!_"

He's not sure where the cry came from, but suddenly there are hands all over him, yanking him away, trying to pull him from James. He yells and panics and lashes out at James again, forcing the hands back and sending the two of them crashing to the floor. Those lips, those painted, laughing lips! The blank, nothing eyes, pupil-less, vacant- lashes turned upwards- bottoms showing through and curving- and Kendall wants it to _die._

Vaguely he can hear noise, but it's all meaningless as he attacks the mocking, the ridicule, giving it all he's got, smashing his fist as hard as he can into them, the only thought on his mind that of saving James, his best friend, the blind one. He can't- they can't-

"_Kendall!_" It breaks through the thick veil of animalistic panic and brings Kendall's vision blanking before starting over, and then he barely avoids throwing up.

James. It's _James, _the figurines tricked him, they- they're back on the walls now, and the whole time he was hitting _James. _Kendall feels sick. James' lip is split and seeping blood, flecks of red streaked across his chin. There are angry red scratches striping his neck, his throat. His eyes are squeezed shut, but when Kendall suddenly stops he cracks them open, and the fear Kendall sees in them, the sliced open, autopsy fear, is just- horrible. The worst thing he's ever seen in his life. And it's _his_ fault. James is scared of _him._

Kendall is like lightning, retreating as far from James as he can, and Logan and Carlos are crowding James, asking if he's okay, trying to get _some _sort of answer from him. The shame burns Kendall's face, and his body is shaking uncontrollably. Logan, Carlos and James seem to shrink away from him, like the room between them stretched out suddenly and now they're miles apart. Kendall raises shivering hands, staring down at them in awed horror- have they betrayed him? How could they do that? There's a dark smudge of blood smeared over his knuckle, and he shudders, his hands filled with slight tremors.

"What is _wrong _with you?" comes a rage-filled voice, and Kendall barely identifies it as Logan. Jolting slightly, he raises his gaze to see Logan glaring fiercely down at him, fingers clenched like he wants to hit him. Kendall flinches and feels his mouth run dry, a taste of bile infiltrating his tongue. "Just what the _fuck_ has gotten into you?"

Kendall can't answer. His face is on fire, and there was never such a definition of guilt as there is now. He looks back past Logan and sees Carlos holding James, comforting him, helping him into a sitting position. His breath catches and his eyes sting but he still can't bring himself to speak. He lowers his eyes again to stare listlessly at his trembling hands, wondering what such monster could have overtook him so viciously. Logan is still yelling at him, but defined words don't reach his ears; they're just loud sounds, angry sounds, scared sounds. And as Kendall thinks back, he realizes something.

He's pressed up against the corner of the room. He's pressed up against the wallpaper.

He goes rigid, absolutely still. His face drains of color, numbs slightly. And he can hear them. He can hear their voices, mere murmurs, whispers, giggles. Chills fly up his spine like nothing else but he _can't move._

"Logan." He doesn't have a voice, it comes out as a soundless whistle, a squeak. Logan has stopped yelling, he thinks, and it's almost silent again, but now Kendall can feel tickling fingers beginning to latch onto the back of his shirt, his neck. "Help." _Please._

His hands twist and morph in front of him, swimming through his vision, and they're a sickly, sickly shade of y-

Stronger, firmer hands are grasping at his filthy ones, pulling him up, and it's like being pulled through a waterfall. Everything is suddenly cleared.

He grasps onto Logan, depending on him for support, and he's breathing harshly into his shoulder.

"I'm sorry," he gasps, still deprived of a voice. "J-J- I'm sorry, I'm sorry, I-"

"We need to get out of here," Logan answers, but another voice stops him in his tracks.

"We can't."

More fluttering chills that threaten to ice his heart over, and Kendall looks. Carlos has the door open, is staring at the void beyond. It is not the place they came from.

It's a nightmare.

And when Kendall blinks once, his vision is erased, and all he sees is a mocking, jagged smile, and three broken toys.

_A shadow looms over him, claws wide and ready to snatch him up, and he knows, right in that moment; no one is going to remember him._

_

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_

There will be more chapters, if anyone was confused.


	2. Chapter 2

_Wow. So I guess it's been a while. Basically I was planning on finishing the entire fic by October of 2012 aka this year, but I'm... sort of working on ch3 at the moment. But I did finish this one! Uh hopefully it's all good and people are still interested and willing to wait for somewhat slow updates, because this is basically my number one project right now and I'm hoping to actually finish this time around, so... yes. _

_Changes: I've changed the summary because I hated the old one. A lot. I'm also going to change the title of the story but not until I get a few other things sorted out, so for now it's cheesy rat maze title. Spooky! Gotta get into the Halloween spirit~_

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Logan stares at the void outside the room with dark, glassy eyes, as if he can't tear his gaze away for anything. Kendall is still clinging to him desperately, his panic at being very nearly overtaken by the figurines just beginning to wear off, along with a sort of fog along the pane of his mind, something that dissipates slowly and strangely almost tantalizingly. It doesn't stop him from noticing Logan, however, as he continues to stare with his vacant expression at the open doorway, so Kendall looks, too, to see what's gotten him so- well, _vacant_.

The place beyond is... different than anything Kendall's ever seen. He got a glimpse of it before, but then he had to look away because it just made him feel dizzy and weak, though that may have just been the effects of the chest-tightening fear he'd been feeling just moments before. Beyond the room is a sort of- well, it's like a hallway, which would be fine if the description could stop there, because before they entered the room, there was indeed a hallway outside the door. The problem is that _this_ hallway is facing the wrong direction; the hallway of Griffin's building runs perpendicular to the door, but this hallway is straight forward, leading right to the door, ending at the door- or maybe it's beginning. Kendall can't really be bothered to figure out the difference, so he settles for both.

Another difference to this hallway is the color; whereas the first hallway was synthetic and white with a tiled floor and neatly painted walls, this hallway is mostly made up of what appears to be great stones, most of them averaging the size of his head, maybe; it reminds him of cobblestone walkways from the eighteen hundreds, maybe. The hallway goes down for quite a ways until it hits a wall, and at first it seems like a dead end, but then Kendall shifts his head and notices that really, it's a sort of fork in the road; it stops because it connects to a perpendicular pathway.

There's something funny about the hallway, though, something he can't quite put his finger on; it's like the image is almost unreal, like he's looking at a picture rather than the real thing. He can almost see ripples waving across the open doorway, shimmering, rolling waves moving along the corners and edges of the frame. It makes everything look distorted, warped, deformed, or just plain wrong. He doesn't know which, or if that's even the problem, but there is definitely something wrong with that place.

Kendall's evaluation of the hallway is cut short when his support suddenly disappears and he stumbles; it takes him a second to realize that it was Logan he was leaning on, and then another to realize that he's disappeared because he's fallen to his knees. The fear from before returns when Kendall looks down and sees that Logan is _not okay._ His fingers are twisted into the short strands of his hair; his expression has changed so that he looks distressed, but his eyes are still vacant and glossed over, locked on the outside, and he's murmuring to himself, so quietly that Kendall can't hear, even though he's standing right next to him.

"Logan," he gasps, dropping down next to him so that he balances on the balls of his feet, but he doesn't know what to do past that. His body is freezing up as the fear and panic quickly catch and spread everywhere like fire, numbing his brain to the possibility of any sort of helpful thought, and he _doesn't know what to do._ Logan doesn't respond to Kendall's touch when he places his shaking hand on his shoulder, continuing to stare and murmur; Kendall leans in to hear what he's saying, almost scared to know.

"-Sible, impossible, this- no, can't happen, not possible, why is this- doesn't make sense, can't-"

Before Kendall can even think of something to do, a set of fingers hooks into his shoulder and pulls, tearing him away from Logan. He falls back on his hands, letting his arms support himself as he looks up in confusion; a gasp is caught in his throat, delayed because of the frantic fright filling him up.

It was James who shoved him aside; Kendall knows this because James is kneeling in the same spot he just was, but he's facing Kendall rather than Logan. His expression conveys fear and aggression both at the same time and both with such heat that whatever Kendall was about to say dies in his throat.

"Wh-what did you do to him?" James demands shakily. "What did you do?"

"I- I didn't- Nothing, he just- I just- H-he fell, and I didn't even-"

Kendall can hear Carlos behind James, can see his hunched form as he desperately says, "Logan, calm down, what's the matter? Is your head okay, are you hurting anywhere? Logan-"

"He says it's impossible," Kendall tries to help, but James gives him a look that silences him; it's almost like James thinks that if Kendall touches Logan or speaks or even moves, he'll hurt him. Guilt from an earlier time that now seems hours ago crashes back down on Kendall's shoulders, and there's still a dark smear of drying blood on his right hand's knuckle. He needs to apologize, to make it clear to James that he wasn't trying to hurt _him_, but the dancing figurines. "James, I didn't mean to hurt you. I didn't."

But all James does is give him a dark, wounded, scared look, and then he turns to Logan, leaving Kendall behind him.

Kendall feels lost.

Logan's fingers are still rigid claws in his hair, despite Carlos' efforts to pull them away from his head. Small tremors are rippling up and down his body, causing his breath to come in short, airless gasps so that it sounds like he's on the verge of hyperventilating. He's still murmuring to himself, Kendall can see his lips moving ceaselessly, and if he listens past Carlos' and James' words, he can just hear the tones of his voice; his eyes still stare vacantly ahead. Kendall wants to go forward and move James out of the way like he did him and try to help Logan, instead of just lying uselessly where James left him, but suddenly he hears quiet, leering laughter and sees them, twirling and dancing out the corner of his eye, and a terrifying thought hits him; what if they trick him again? What if he goes over and tries to help Logan, but they get behind his eyes and into his hands and make him hurt Logan instead? Or James, what if they make him suddenly turn on James and start attacking him again? They wouldn't believe that he wouldn't mean to, because James has already proved that he doesn't.

So instead of getting up and attempting to calm Logan down, Kendall stays sitting with his hands supporting behind him, helplessly watching the scene unfold. Logan seems to be getting increasingly agitated, his breaths coming more and more harshly- Kendall is sure that breath is not supposed to come that way.

"Logan, you gotta listen to me," Carlos is saying, his expression split wide open with the unbearable fear they're all feeling. "Calm down, Logan, look at me, just- Look at me!"

Don't yell in his face, Kendall wants to tell him. That'll just make it worse. Logan has never done well under pressure, and Kendall's sure that yelling at him will definitely put him under pressure. Then again, Logan isn't really responding to Carlos or James, so maybe yelling is what he needs.

"Logan, please!" Carlos cries. He, like a child, scares easily from things like this, and quite frankly Kendall is surprised he hadn't started freaking out before this point. "Look at me, calm down!"

Then Kendall realizes that Logan can't focus on Carlos or James, who is still trying to help get his hands away from his head, because he's still staring at the stone hallway. His eyes are wide and glassy and there's a definite haze to their expression; Kendall just knows that it's because of the hallway. He suddenly finds himself moving, crawling around James to sit in front of Logan, blocking his view of the outside, and the reaction is immediate. Logan's eyes shut for just a second before flickering and settling on Kendall's face, looking directly into him. Kendall can see tears in Logan's eyes, but they don't spill over. His gaze won't focus, but now, instead of being stuck on the outside, it's stuck on Kendall's face.

Everything seems to be blowing by Kendall in a daze, like everything's happening so fast around him that he can't keep up, or maybe he's the problem and he's processing everything too slow. Either way, it feels like he's stuck in slow motion while everything races past him like a wildfire, leaving him behind to fend for himself against the turmoil of it all, sucking all the oxygen out from under his feet. He feels breathless and dizzy and every time he moves, something else is moving his body for him, drawing his clipped breath in and out, shifting his muscles back and forth, controlling him, slowly winding the puppet strings around him so tightly that his lungs are locked and unmoving, his heart beating sluggishly in an attempt to keep up with the flashing prestissimo rhythm beating in the place of his heart. He's turning into a rhythm, set for others to swoon and sway to, something he can't stop, pause, play, rewind, end. He's obsolete.

Suddenly, just for a billionth of a second, Logan's face, his tear-filled eyes disappear and a wicked, twisted grin coils, strikes, flashes past his vision- then it's Logan's face again, and before he's even realized that it's come and gone, the sound comes slamming back into his ears, almost knocking him over with the sheer force and power of it.

Everything is _tooloudtooloudtooloud_ and Kendall can't handle it; he almost wants to clamp his hands over his ears, shove his palms in and _make it stop, please_, because there's all the sounds of Logan's harsh, panting breathing and Carlos' desperate pleading and James' agreement with Carlos but beneath all that, or maybe over it, Kendall hears screeching and scraping and shrieking and _stop._

_Stop._

"Kendall." The voice is firm, but not sharp. It doesn't want to slice into him and open him up for everyone to see, because it's not trying to scare him away; rather, it is trying to bring him back. He blinks, long and slow, trying to concentrate, because the voice's efforts are making him realize that he's drifting and that he does need it to get him back. He's floundering, drowning, attempting to tread water filled with long, flowing strands of seaweed that tangles in his legs and pulls him down, back underneath the water, away from the shimmering, pastel bubbles of light; his only salvation is the voice, but the voice isn't-

"Kendall."

It's not like he can't hear it, because he does hear and he understands perfectly; the problem is that he can't even move. The world is still zooming past at a thousand miles an hour, much too rapidly-paced for him to grasp, but the voice is the brakes- every time it speaks, everything seems to slow down just a little bit. Kendall wants to tell it to keep talking to him, to bring the world to a stop so that his entire mind will stop buzzing, but he can't talk, because every time he tries his voice is ripped from his throat and lost in the chaos of it all.

"Kendall, can you hear me?"

Completely cool, collected, calm. It shouldn't be this way. They should care. They should care that he's impaired, that he can't see or move or speak- they shouldn't sound so nonchalant about this, like doctors chattering over a half-dead body that depends solely on their precision and concentration for its survival. Kendall panics at the lack of emotion, and the voice grows fuzzy.

"Kendall, wake up. Open your eyes. Can you open your eyes? Kendall, can you hear me? Kendall. Please."

Please. Clarity restores and he begins to resurface. The closer he gets, the higher the voice gets, tunneling through clouds and dirt and debris, and a ringing starts in his ears.

"Kendall? Come on, Kendall, you have to listen to me, please, you can do it; I know you can."

The ringing folds over the cool calmness of the tone and begins to grow, starting out as a mere whisper covering the first voice, an echo of the clammy, grasping fingers.

"Don't let it, I know you can stop it- you can do it. Concentrate, Kendall."

The whisper evolves into a murmur, then a mirror, and then louder and louder until it's a shout, a monotonous shout that makes Kendall want to bury his head and hide away the rest of his days.

"Please."

Something like an explosion blows his ears and suddenly, the shout has turned scared, desperate, dynamic. No longer flat, but full of emotion. He hadn't even realized he was panting, but he is, and he must have been for a while because his chest feels tight and restricting like no matter how hard he tries to breathe it will never be enough.

"Kendall, Kendall- can you hear me? Please, _please_ listen to me," the voice begs; Logan's voice. It was never shouting at him at all, but it's filled with such desperation and fright that it might as well have been. Kendall recognizes the warmth of arms around him, though not in the form of an embrace, but rather support. Holding him up, because he can't sit up on his own anymore.

"What happened?" he tries to ask, but his voice breaks on the first syllable and goes silent, a whisper of breath.

"What?" The word is filled with hope, undivided attention.

"What- happened," he repeats, eyes fluttering open to meet Logan's concerned ones. He's really close, Kendall notes.

"Collapsed- sort of," Logan answers. "I was- I was holding you because you couldn't get up and then I was on the ground and you were sitting in front of me and you sort of fell and James-" he stops, turns to look at James, Kendall following his gaze. James appears to be attempting to calm a very distraught-looking Carlos, though James himself still looks shaken. As a matter of fact, Logan's face is extremely pale, a frantic fear just dissipating from his eyes. None of them are okay, Kendall realizes. Someone needs to take charge and pull everyone back together.

"Yeah," he says distractedly in answer to whatever Logan just told him. He gently removes himself from Logan's arms but takes his hand and pulls him up with him when he shakily stands. Logan tries to protest with an "Are you sure you're okay?", but Kendall brushes him off. "I'm fine." Even though he feels the furthest thing from fine. He finds his voice.

"James. Carlos." The two stop what they're doing and look up, something Kendall allows himself to take the smallest amount of pride in. Maybe he still has a slight bit of their respect- even though Carlos looks scared and James just looks apathetic as to whatever Kendall has to say. He takes a deep breath through his nose and speaks before any doubt can change his mind or tear down his confidence.

"Guys." He pauses, slightly intimidated by James' intense stare. He takes another breath to prepare himself, hoping that he still has the ability to deliver effective speeches. "So far things haven't been off to such a great start." He tries to ignore James' exaggerated eye-roll in favor of continuing, "I know that this seems impossible. Maybe it is. But-" and he falters. What if he's wrong? What if he says something to make them believe, make them hope, and then it turns out that he's so, completely wrong? What if he lets them down? The thought is so staggering that he almost chokes on the next words, but he would never forgive himself if he didn't even try to hold them together, so he rises above his uncertainty and tries to sound sure of himself.

"We need to forget that this is impossible. We have to just accept the fact that it's happening, no matter the reason why, and deal with it to the best of our ability. We- we have to..." He trails off, not knowing what to say; his mind is drawing a total blank. He starts to panic in the back of his head, the place he reserves for things like that, but now it's starting to creep forward into the thinking portion of his brain, the one that he needs to be using right now. He's getting a foreign sensation of stage fright as he feels three pairs of eyes scrutinizing him, picking him apart, pricking his skin in a thousand places at once, and he feels his knees begin to buckle, hopelessness crowding at the edges of his vision. Then, before he knows what's happening, he's talking again.

"It's going to be hard," he says in a low voice. He doesn't know where the words are coming from, but he says them with commitment and meaning. "This is not going to be easy. It's going to try so hard to stop us, to tear us down. I don't know what it is, but it's going to stop at nothing to try to break us apart, and we can't let that happen. We have to decide now that we're going to make it through this. We have to decide now that no matter what happens, we're going to stick together. We can't give up on each other, or ourselves, especially." As more and more words flood through his lips, he finds himself speaking with more and more conviction, undertones of desperation. "No matter how hard it gets, don't get dragged under. Stand up to it. Prove that you can beat it. You're stronger than it thinks." His eyes glaze over. "You have to. You can't lose." Chest tightens. Heartbeat quickens. "You _can't_." Flashes of water-stained yellow, of razor grins, cymbals, spinning, spiraling- "C-can't-"

The room goes dark for a split second, enough to glimpse the sound of a ghastly giggle, and then Kendall hears himself gasp, "_Can't._"

Logan's fingers brush his elbow but Kendall shrugs him away, standing straight and tall again, trying to rid the buzzing from his head. It fades slowly, leaving a dull thudding in its wake, which Kendall tries to ignore. "We need to find our way out of here, and we need to stick together." Forget the fact that he's sweating. Forget the fact that he feels like his legs are going to give out at any second and that he probably needs to sit down for a while before they go anywhere. Deep down, in a place he's not willing to admit exists, Kendall Knight is scared, and all he wants is to get everyone out safely as quickly as possible, and if he wastes time lying around, it might be too late by the time he actually takes action. So he brushes off the tremor vibrating throughout his body and holds his head high, or as high as he can. James still doesn't look like he trusts Kendall and Logan is still shaken from his earlier episode, but they along with Carlos move to gather with Kendall at the doorway standing between them and this nightmare world of the unknown. They haven't even set foot into it and already it's taken its toll on Logan: Kendall doesn't even want to imagine what could happen once they're actually in it.

He glances around himself, at his friends, and it suddenly hits him that this could be the last time he sees any of them. Immediately he thinks, _I won't let that happen_, but in the private, deep part of his mind, he's still scared. He doesn't want anything to happen to them, regardless of whether it's actually his fault. So far it has been his fault.

James won't look at him; Carlos watches the ground in interest; Logan stares ahead at the void. Kendall fears for a second that he's been hypnotized again, but as if sensing the thought Logan turns to look at him with wide, nervous eyes. Kendall tries his best to look confident, courageous.

He can feel the stare of the painting boring into the back of his head, that twisted grin laughing at him, at his failure, his wrong. Kendall exhales shakily, tenses his muscles, and takes his first step into the nightmare world.

...

_Indecipherable. Frustration, irritation, and they all just continue like he's not even there. But they know he's there. Of course they know, because if they didn't they wouldn't be whispering to him. It's endless, like a fly buzzing in his ear, and no matter how hard he swats at it it always comes right back like nothing. Endless, endless, endless, forever and ever and ever, it's never, ever going to stop, it's hopeless, they're never going to go away, they'll always be here for him, they'll never leave him alone._

_He'll never be lonely again._

Kendall laughs a sort of upbeat, happy laugh, or at least it sounds that way at first. When it reaches his ears from the outside, it almost sounds like more of a ridiculous laugh of irony. But that's not what it was supposed to sound like. He's supposed to sound happy, because he is. He-

He slaps himself in the face, gasping at the icy cold shock of coming back into himself. He's walking again.

"Kendall, are you sure you're okay?"

"Never better," he mutters. His arm itches. He scratches, but he doesn't look at it. For all he knows, it could be bleeding like mad. Why would he want to see something like that?

The place they're in is a maze. It looks like a maze, at least to Kendall. It's dark, dim, and he thought it was purple at first, but it's not because stones are gray, and not purple at all. Still, though, out of the corner of his eye, he sees the whole place tinted with purple. He can't tell how high or low the ceiling is. It looks low, low enough to touch, but when he reached up to touch it, he couldn't reach, which he found strange because he's a bit taller than average. He wonders if James could reach it and is about to ask, but when he turns and sees James, he remembers what he did and feels disgusting. James' lip has stopped bleeding and is now scabbing over, but bruises are blossoming across his jaw and forehead and his expression just looks so- lost. He was staring right at Kendall, but when Kendall turned around at him he averted his gaze and began instead watching his feet move over the uneven purple-gray floor of the maze.

Kendall looks back ahead, away from James, and keeps walking. He's really fairly surprised at how well they're all taking this- well, apart from what happened earlier. Kendall cringes at the memory. He can still feel his fists aching with the impact of hitting James' face, over and over, and even though he'd been tricked and it really shouldn't be his fault, he feels like dirt. If there's one thing he knows he's responsible for, it's his friends' safety. And okay, maybe no one specifically gave him that responsibility, but ever since they met in pre-Kindergarten, he's just felt this overwhelming sense of protection over his friends, like if he doesn't look after them, he'll- die, or something. He doesn't know what it is, but he knows it's undoubtedly true because now, knowing that he _hurt _James, that now James is avoiding him because of it, that it's all because of _him_- it's killing him. He can barely think straight, for all the guilt buzzing and buzzing around inside his head. He can't concentrate on where they're going, because the not-purple walls are everywhere and they all look the same, cobblestone-esque and dark and pressing, so for all Kendall knows, they could be just standing here going absolutely nowhere.

Another thing about the maze is that it seems- damp. Like moisture is seeping from the walls, the ceiling, dripping down and collecting on the floor so that whenever one of them takes a step it splashes everywhere. It feels like Kendall is jumping in puddles, but when he looks down, there's no water, just the rugged floor of the maze. Nothing is seeping through cracks in the walls or ceiling, it just _feels_ damp, musty. Kendall feels like there should be moss growing everywhere, covering the walls, giving the place more of a hedge maze sort of look. The thick, humid atmosphere is almost choking Kendall, so much that he can barely concentrate on where he's going, and every time he hears that question, his only answer is "I don't know," because he doesn't know, because he can't even see the walls anymore, and there is incessant buzzing and humming and thrumming in his ears that he can't stand for much longer, he can't breathe, he can't breathe-

"Kendall?"

The floor is crawling with little green-yellow termites, or ants, or just plain insects of every kind; swarming with insects that crawl all over their feet and up inside their pant legs and over their skin and in their skin all the way up until they're humming in his head- that's where the humming buzzing thrumming is coming from, because there are bugs suffocating him, eating away at every bit of oxygen in his lungs and that's why he can't breathe-

"Kendall?"

-and now they're filling up the insides of his eyes and that's why everything is so hard to see-

"Kendall. Kendall!"

With a quick, sharp gasp, Kendall comes back to himself and stops walking, turning around to find Logan's face, his familiar, non-infested face. He can't help but breathe a small sigh of relief; he doesn't want to even think of bugs crawling all over Logan's face, let alone see it. Right now Logan looks concerned, or confused. His eyebrows are furrowed, so it's one of the two, but in this light it's hard to tell.

"Hm- Yeah?" Kendall answers, a little late, his throat almost catching on the word.

Logan is still looking at him funny, but all he says is, "Uh... Carlos... asked you something."

"Oh." Kendall looks back at Carlos, who is standing behind James, who still won't meet Kendall's eyes. "What?"

"Where are we going?"

"Circles," Kendall answers simply, because he is so tired of saying 'I don't know.' "We are going around in circles." That rock there, in the wall, he _knows_ he's seen it before, he's positive.

Carlos doesn't answer. Logan's expression remains the same as he steps forward and examines Kendall's face in close scrutiny.

"Are you... absolutely positive you're okay? You keep stumbling, and just now you didn't hear me or Carlos calling you." So he's concerned. Or maybe it's both. Yeah, Kendall's gonna settle for both: a compromise. Logan's hand is suddenly on his forehead, and he jolts back, swatting it away.

"Stop it," he mutters defiantly. "I'm fine."

"But..." Logan lowers his hand to his side again, Kendall watching to make sure it stays before looking back at Logan's confused-concerned-bug-free face. "You're showing particularly unnerving symptoms. Do you feel any sort of dizziness or nausea at all? No pain anywhere in your body?"

_Maybe just a headache._ But since it really isn't a headache, he answers, "No."

"Well," Logan looks extremely unconvinced, "Maybe we should stop and rest awhile. It feels like a good while since we've started walking."

"I'm _fine_," he repeats stubbornly. "We don't need rest, we need to find a way out of here."

"Is that where we're going?" Carlos breaks in, and Kendall closes his eyes, suddenly out of patience for Carlos' pestering, but he can't let it show.

"Or something," is what he responds with, trying to keep his tone even. His eyes flash open again and he steps back so he can face all three of the others at once. "Look. I am as clueless as you guys are about this whole thing, so what makes you think I have all the answers? I don't. Maybe I'm usually the guy who calls all the shots in a hockey game, or the one who stops us all from branching out into Hollywood things that'll ruin us, but this? I have no idea what the hell this even is, so stop acting like I'm supposed to know everything, okay? I don't. We're all gonna figure it out together, and we're all gonna tell each other everything, and we're gonna work this out. Together. Got it?"

The only immediate response he gets are two stunned looks and a dark, wounded one. He tries to push the implications of that one from his mind. His teeth pull at his lip and his shoulders sag the slightest bit. He huffs, "Alright," under his breath, re-squares his shoulders, and turns to move on.

The next portion of the journey is spent in near silence, the only sound being the scuffing of shoes on the floor of the passageway. Kendall was right about the maze piece of his evaluation; it isn't soon after his little lecture that they come to a sort of fork. After no one offers any opinion regarding which way they think would be best, Kendall takes the initiative and turns left, the others following wordlessly behind.

There's the same incessant buzzing in Kendall's head that he doesn't really notice until it's turned into a near-inaudible murmur, like people are talking behind him, but there's no real source to it. Gradually it gets louder, and he can hear the voices, the tones and the consonants, but there is no real definition to the words, and Kendall continually turns to look behind him, wondering what they're all talking about, whether they're talking about him, but their mouths are unmoving, and the muttering has stopped by the time he's turned enough to see. He constantly shakes his head, trying to get rid of the noise, and he swears it's coming from behind him, but then it really isn't because it isn't coming from _anywhere_- it's just there and he can hear it and he's sure no one else can because nobody's asking any questions, and wouldn't they be if they could?

It must be from ahead, then. There's a tunnel that broadcasts the sound directly to his ears and only to his ears, but if he turns away, the signal is broken and it cuts off. Why him, though? Why can't anyone else hear it? Or- can they? Are they just not saying anything? Or are they the ones saying it? Diffident, Kendall turns back once more to search the faces of his companions, and this time James speaks up tensely, "Why do you keep doing that?"

It's the first time he's actually addressed Kendall since accusing him of hurting Logan back in the room with the painting, and it catches him off guard.

"I- what?"

"You keep looking back at us. Why?" They've stopped walking and Kendall has turned fully around; James' arms are crossed, his expression dark as he regards Kendall from under a wary brow.

"I- I just-" Kendall stumbles, searching for a way to explain his predicament. "Uh- d'you guys- hear that..?" He gestures vaguely and is met with vacant stares.

"Hear what?" Logan asks unsurely, taking a step towards Kendall, to which Kendall reacts with a half-step back. He gestures again, trying to match the essence of the words coming out of his mouth.

"It's this- buzzing, sort of. Or like, people talking. It was buzzing, but now it sounds like people are talking. From out of nowhere. I-..." he trails off when he sees no recognition in any of their expressions. "It's just really weird," he sort of mumbles, half to himself. "I thought maybe it was you guys, but it's not."

"Something's wrong with him," James speaks out decidedly, and immediately Kendall bristles.

"No there isn't, I'm fine."

"Yeah," James drawls sarcastically; "you're just hearing some weird noise that nobody else can hear, but that's normal, right?"

"Shut- okay, just shut up," Kendall snaps, furrowing his eyebrows and shutting his eyes, trying to calm himself away from the sudden irritation. "I'm okay, I just... don't know where it's coming from."

"Uh," Logan breaks in hesitantly, still eyeing Kendall cautiously, and Kendall turns on him. "Do you think maybe we should, y'know, stop for a while? Kind of take a break from walking around? We've been at it for a while, and maybe you're just getting tired."

"What?" Indignant, Kendall denies, "I'm not tired- I feel fine. Take my temperature, check my pulse, whatever. I'm not tired."

"Yeah, Kendall doesn't get tired," James snarks from behind Logan, gaining more confidence against Kendall as it gradually becomes apparent that he doesn't know what he's doing- which is technically true, but that doesn't mean they should all be attacking each other. "He's the leader; he's always perfect."

Kendall fumes but bites his tongue, because obviously he's far from perfect, especially today, and the insinuation is like a punch to the gut. Bloody fists fly through his memory and his shoulders tremble with the thought of what he could have done, of what he _did_ do. He looks at James now, sees the dark, brooding purple blossomed over the arch of his cheekbone, and cringes back, heart replaced with bricks that land heavily in his chest. His mouth has gone dry and his swallow is a scrape of his Adam's apple against the inside of his throat.

"Stop it," he says icily. "We can't fight."

James only laughs lightly but bitingly, finding strength in Kendall's weakness. "Too late for that, don't you think?"

"James, that's enough," Logan reprimands in a firm tone while Kendall feels a mallet in his stomach; it strikes at his middle and forces his insides to swirl up until he tastes bile and spits it out, despite his knowing that it's exactly what he shouldn't be doing.

"You think I meant to do that?" he seethes. "You actually think that I'd hurt one of my best friends on purpose?"

"Kend-" Logan attempts apprehensively, but James interrupts him like he's not even there, his body language closed off but his eyes full of fire and betrayal and, worst of all, fear.

"Whether you meant to or not, you still did it, which means I can't trust you- none of us should. If Logan hadn't stopped you, you could've- killed me!"

"I wouldn't have killed you!" Kendall argues, horrified.

"Well you wouldn't have punched me in the face an hour ago, but just look how _that_ turned out!"

"Guys!" Logan interjects loudly and firmly, glaring between the two with lines of uneasiness hardening his features. His tone goes desperate and scared with his next words. "We can't fight; not now, not _here_. I don't think any of us are completely in our right minds right now, and it's this place- it's getting to us, getting inside our heads, and it wants us to turn on each other. As of right now? It's winning. So both of you need to just shut up and leave each other be, because- wait. Where's Carlos?"

Kendall feels his face drain of color and instantly whirls, searching vainly for the dark head of hair, the bright, questioning eyes, as James panics, "Wasn't he just here with us?"

"Carlos?" Logan calls out, hands shaking at his sides, elbows bent just a little to raise his hands in preparation for a yell. "Carlos, are you here?"

Kendall's heart is pounding rapidly in his chest, his throat constricting and _no, no, this isn't- he can't-_ his voice quavers as he cries, "Carlos?"

"'M over here," comes a light answer, thankfully from not too far away, and Kendall nearly faints with relief; when he looks down at his hands, they're clammy and trembling.

"Where?" Logan calls back after a second; he looks like he's recovered from the initial scare for the most part, and Kendall feels weak. Carlos' voice floats back over to them, and it sounds like it's just on the other side of the wall, but it's distorted, scattering so that Kendall second-guesses himself.

"Over here," is the response. "Guys, I think- I think I found something; c'mere."

Not trusting his own judgement, Kendall lets Logan lead the way to the source, knees weak, James following on Logan's right- the opposite side from where Kendall walks. Kendall ducks his head and bites his lip, crossing his arms tight against his chest and tripping to keep up with Logan, who now almost runs down the stretch of the corridor, as if failing to run fast enough will result in Carlos' disappearing altogether.

When they round the next corner, Carlos is indeed there, not too far down the aisle. He's facing the wall to their left, the stones breaking to reveal a doorway, empty of any barrier. As soon as they catch up, Logan breathes, "Jesus, Carlos, you scared the shit out of us. Why would you..." He stops when he notices the doorway. "What's this?"

"I dunno..." Carlos answers slowly, as if in a trance. "You guys were all yelling so loud, and then I got the feeling I should come here and maybe you would stop... so I came... and you... stopped." He licks his lips. "It was really... nice."

"Uh..." Logan regards him closely, eyes darting between him and the doorway. Kendall cranes his neck to look around Logan and past the frame. Inside it looks just like a normal room in Griffin's building; brightly lit, both with florescent electricity and sunlight flooding in through the un-blinded window. After walking through the dark stone maze for so long, the sight is almost surreal to Kendall and he quickly steps back, breathing deeply through his nose.

"What do you think it is?" Carlos asks in wonder, eyes neglecting to leave the room before him; he stands directly in front of it. "Some kind of portal back to the real world?" When Kendall checks a second time, noting the thin blue shade of the sky, he concludes that in the room it's around the time of day it should be out there, the same weather, maybe even the same sweltry L.A. temperature. He breaks his gaze just as quickly, however, when he feels a strong sense of foreboding clutch firmly at the pit of his stomach. Uneasily he turns his gaze to Carlos, voicing his premonition.

"I think it's probably something we should leave alone." Carlos' eyebrows furrow.

"No, it... it called to me; it wanted me to find my way out; it was _helping_ us."

"I don't think it's the way out," Logan agrees with Kendall, obviously sharing his apprehension. "I think we should leave." He reaches out to tug at Carlos' arm, but before he can make contact, Carlos jerks away, protesting.

"No, can't you see? It _called_ me, Logan, why won't you believe me?" His voice pitches slightly in distress and Kendall tries to step in, but at that same moment, whether intentionally or not, James crosses his path, taking the place next to Carlos that Kendall was moving to occupy. He doesn't turn to acknowledge the offense; Kendall's arms lock more tightly into his chest.

"I believe you," Logan is trying to soothe, but he's got that telltale stunt in his tone that exposes the trepidation climbing across his mind. "I just think we should leave this alone; I've got a bad feeling about it."

"Why?" Carlos exclaims indignantly. "Because I found it? Because you don't trust me? You don't really believe me- you're just saying it." His lower lip sticks out, a sign that he's genuinely upset. Logan falters, mouth hanging open helplessly, a protest on his tongue; James rescues him.

"We trust you, buddy. We love you, we really do, but that room just doesn't feel... right."

"It doesn't," Logan furthers, shaking his head slowly. "Carlos, we need to go away from here." Again he reaches out for Carlos' arm, but again Carlos twitches out of reach.

"No!" He hits James, who stands on his other side. James catches him around the upper arm, Carlos struggling against him. Still he doesn't look away from the room, gaze locked on the eerie bright light that falls across his face, gleaming in his glazed eyes...

"Carlos," Kendall intervenes, taking a stumbling step forward, reaching out. He's hypnotized, he's like Logan, they need to break his gaze before everything goes haywire in the way he can almost taste happening right now. Carlos fights James' hold, cries out frantically when Logan adds his strength to the restraints.

"Guys, no, _listen _to me- we have to go in there, we _have_ t-"

"His eyes," Kendall chokes out, hindered by uncertainty and anxiety. "Stop his eyes."

James throws a condemning look over Carlos' shoulder at him but Logan understands and a second later his hand falls over Carlos' eyes, covering them completely. Carlos thrashes against the hold, clenched fists and bent knees, but then he calms and slumps against Logan and James, who adjust themselves to support him. Logan hands him off to James, lifting his palm slightly to see beneath, then pulling it away altogether; Carlos' eyes are closed. Kendall breathes out shakily, prompting James and Logan to turn to look at him simultaneously.

"How did you know to do that?" Logan asks curiously. James watches his reaction with the same dark eyes that have been watching him since they entered the maze.

"It was the same in the room before, with you," Kendall answers, trying to avoid looking at James, eyes falling instead on Carlos. "He-" Suddenly Kendall's stomach drops. He exclaims urgently, referring to Carlos, but both Logan and James move too slowly. Carlos' eyes have shot open, glassy as before, and before any of them can react, he's broken from James' loosened, unsuspecting hold, and darted into the room beyond the doorway.

For a moment, everything is completely silent, Kendall tenses, dreading, faltering when nothing happens immediately. Carlos stands unharmed on the other side, staring back at them with wide, seemingly shocked eyes as they all stare back at him, mirroring his expression. Then his mouth turns up in a smug grin, eyes gloating and full.

"See? I told you there was nothing to worry about."

And in the moment it takes for Kendall to blink, he's gone, replaced by the solid, unbroken wall of damp, mortared stone.

. . .

_He closes his eyes, screws them tightly shut in hopes of shutting out the monster, but all his efforts have done is invite it in as a struggling man invites quicksand to engulf him entirely._


End file.
